Stories, Old Ragged Verse, Letters to and from mountain cousins by Storyteller and Appalachian Humorist Stephen Hollen. Enjoy the humor and bittersweet memories of Eastern Kentucky and a place where the mist crawls down the mountainside ''like molasses on a cold plate''

Thursday, January 28, 2016

When I was a little boy I could not wait for Christmas mornin' to
arrive. Christmas Eve was always set aside to spend with Mama's family.
Grandma always had the house decorated from floor to ceiling. Mama,
Grandma and the rest of the women would cook and prepare the best dishes
for Christmas Eve. Oh my, I can still taste my Aunt Geneva's Sloppy
Joe's, her home made deer salami (I have the recipe, takes days to
make), Someone would bring a big ol' ham, green beans, sweet tater
casserole an' desserts, me oh my.
Grandma started shoppin' for
Christmas right after the holidays. She planned for Christmas all year.
She would buy wrappin' paper, bows an' Scotch tape right after Christmas
when it was marked down 50% 'cause she had a lot of presents to wrap
each year.
Christmas Eve was wonderful, full of family, good food
and presents for everyone. Nothin' fancy, mind you, simple things, good
things for all.
When we finally was back home it was quick to
bed for it was always late an' Santa didn't want to wait on the roof for
two little ol' boys who had the big eye an' couldn't go to sleep. Sleep
always came an' so did early mornin'. Too early for a Daddy who was up
at 4:00 a.m. an' off to work the mornin' before.
I don't
remember who was awake first most of those early Christmas mornin's,
Maybe me or maybe Brother Mike. The Hollen boys were early risers on
Christmas mornin' EVERY year. We tried our best to be quiet, but we
almost always woke Mama up. She would come into the livin' room with
camera in hand. Back then it was one of them little ol' cameras with a
square flash cube.
Me an' Brother Mike was like Christmas mornin'
buzz saws. We could tear through tape an' wrappin' paper to get to the
prize. What fun it was, how wonderful them Christmas mornin's were.
Daddy was a little slower to get out of bed. We would hear the click of
his Zippo lighter as he lit his first Winston of the day. Mama would
have coffee on an' he would drag his sleep deprived body out of bed,
head for the coffee pot to grab a cup before he sat down.
His two
little boys were his world. He never said that. He weren't much of a
talker, but everyone knew they was his world. He sat an' smiled, right
quiet like as we dragged each an' every present over for him to inspect.
Daddy loved toys an' he would look each one over carefully, tryin' out
the cap guns, steerin' the remote control cars around the piles of
wrappin' paper before he handed the control back.
I can still see
him sittin' there. He liked to drink his coffee in a thin china cup
WITH a saucer (later in life Mama would go to the thrift stores to find
single china cups an saucer sets in case Daddy broke one). He'd have on
his work pants, white socks, what folks call a "wife beater" sleeveless
tee shirt an' house slippers. Now, many times his present from me an'
Brother Mike was a new pair of house slippers, so we would haul the
package over an' giggle the whole time he was unwrappin' it. Once open
each of us would grab a new slipper an' ram it on his feet.We each would
take one of the old slippers to the bedroom in a sort of retirement
ceremony.
What I didn't tell no one, what Brother Mike never knew
was this; I would always look to see if Santa ate all the cookies an'
drank all the milk we left for him. I figure he had lots of cookies an'
milk cause he always left part of the milk an' at least one cookie WITH a
bite taken out of it!
Cousins, you don't know the joy of seein'
Santa's cookie with a bite missin' an' some warm leftover milk. When no
one was lookin' I would sneak over an' right quick eat that ol' cookie
an' drink that little bit of warm milk. It was Santa's! Me an' him
shared the same cookies an' milk. Sure, I ate the leftovers hours later,
but we shared a snack together. That was one of the best parts of
Christmas. Sort of like grabbin' half a peanut butter an' 'nanner
sammich the King, Elvis Presley might leave. I savored ever' morsel,
slowly sipped ever' last drop.
Mama an' Daddy didn't miss much.
We both got caught at our orneriness an' paid the price too many times
to remember. I'll bet Mama an' Daddy knew exactly what I did on
Christmas mornin'. I suspect Daddy left a sip or two of milk an' took
just a bite out of that last cookie on purpose. I suspect they watched
their oldest little boy with smiles an' secret glances at each other as I
smiled an' ate my secret prize.
Now that I wear the Red Suit, I
always remember with great joy my folks an' family, Christmas Eve,
Christmas mornin' an' secret treats. As I listen to boys an' girls share
their wishes an' dreams, see their bashful smiles an' lean close to
hear their whispers I pause often, thinkin', dreamin' of warm milk an'
that cookie Santa left just for me.

Copyrighted Materials

Notice: All original photographs, stories, poems and text on this blog site are copyright protected and solely owned by the author, Stephen Hollen. Please request permission before copying or reproducing any content by writing to Stephen at:mountainstories@yahoo.com

Stephen Hollen

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SCHEDULING

Why not try something different for your Sales Meeting, Conference or Annual Meeting? Invite Stephen to as your Featured or Keynote Speaker! His many years of experiences as a successful and award winning Salesman and Sales Manager have given him insights and inspiration for your business or organization.

Event Planners and Organizers, here is a winning idea! Invite Stephen to share his Tall Tales, Scary Stories, Old Ragged Verse or maybe even Doc Hollen's Traveling Medicine Show at your event, festival, school or organization.

Contact him at: mountainstories@yahoo.comOr give him a call: 937-371-4071

About Me

Stephen Hollen is an award winning storyteller, writer, poet and Appalachian
Humorist. He grew up in the hills of Appalachia where his family has
lived since the 1760s. He is considered by many to be one of the foremost
poetic and storytelling voices of Appalachia.

One of the achievements Stephen is proudest of is the Heritage Award
presented to him in 2005 at the Appalachian Festival in Cincinnati, Ohio.
He was chosen "Man of the Year" in 2007 and was elected to "Who's Who
in America" in 2000, 2001 and 2003. His poetry - known by him as
"ragged verse" has been selected to appear on a number of websites
and his poem remembering 9/11 traveled around the world and appeared in German
and Russian websites!

Stephen's storytelling blog - www.mountainstories.net
enjoys huge popularity and has a large following of readers. Thousands of
readers stop monthly to read the humorous stories, bittersweet memories and
wonderful word pictures written by this talented author and poet.

Perhaps you were introduced to Stephen Hollen at a festival, school or
community event as he told stories, performed his tongue in cheek Old Time
Medicine Show as Doc Hollen, made Appalachian brooms and walking sticks, played the harmonica
or dulcimer or just told a tale so tall it HAD to be true.

Wherever you crossed his path, there is no doubt that he loves Appalachia -
and Eastern Kentucky in particular. When he talks about his "hometown
of Beloved, Kentucky", characters like his Cousin Peanut, Uncle Billy
Gilbert or Birdie Sue Poovey, you will grin with recognition because you have
kin just like them. As he reads his ragged verse, his warm bass voice
slowly weaves a picture of lightening bugs dancin' at dusk, of mist creepin'
down a mountain like molasses on a cold plate... and you find yourself
entranced, smiling at the memories he weaves around his audience.

Stephen Hollen is an unsung ambassador for Eastern Kentucky. You can see
it in the twinkle of his eye, hear it in the richness of his voice as he asks
you to come along and go with him back home... to the hills.